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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239092">Maybe mistakes aren't so bad (especially if they end with ice cream)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingalewithatale/pseuds/Nightingalewithatale'>Nightingalewithatale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rick and Morty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bonding, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Gentle Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Grandpa Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Protectiveness, Realization</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:54:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingalewithatale/pseuds/Nightingalewithatale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sooo...the short of it is that Rick made a mistake. As unlikely as it was, it still happened. While trying to make more clone base, he accidentally isolated his emotions into physical forms that look identical to each other. </p><p>Or, alternatively, Morty is confused (and a little stressed), and all of the Ricks are very concerned about their grandson in their own way. </p><p>Marked mature for language to be safe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rick Sanchez &amp; Morty Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>218</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Considering everything, it started as a pretty normal Saturday. Morty woke up at about ten thirty of his own accord, which surprised him, because typically Rick pulled him out of bed as soon as possible. Rubbing his eyes and trudging down stairs sleepily, he stumbled into the kitchen, sighing as he opened the cabinet, remembering that the bowls were still too high for him to reach. Lifting his knee onto the counter, the boy pulled himself onto the counter, careful not to hit his head on the open cabinet door. </p>
<p>Feeling a hand at his back, he nearly toppled over, the other hand reaching around him and grabbing a bowl. "Get down, kid. You'll crack your head open."</p>
<p>Sliding off of the counter, Morty blinked as a bowl was placed in his hands. </p>
<p>"S-sorry, Rick. I-I didn't know if you were awake." </p>
<p>"Just put the bowl on the counter." Rick commanded solemnly. "Which cereal do you want?" </p>
<p>"U-uh. The one with-with marshmallows?" </p>
<p>"Hm," Rick grunted, taking down two boxes of cereal from another cabinet. "You're getting half marshmallows, half of that shitty flake stuff that your mom likes." </p>
<p>His eyebrows scrunching together, Morty tilted his head, watching his grandpa with confused eyes. </p>
<p>"But-"</p>
<p>Rick's tired eyes glanced at Morty. With a sigh, he poured both boxes of cereal into the bowl. "If you want to get ice cream later, you can't eat a whole bowl of sugar." </p>
<p>Morty, squinting up at his grandpa, ignored that comment in favor of grabbing some milk from the fridge and pouring it into his bowl. As his grandpa took the jug from him, the older man ruffled his hair, another sigh escaping his lips. Taking his bowl and grabbing a spoon from a drawer, Morty made his way to the couch, where he sat down in front of the blaring television. </p>
<p>Rick sat down next to him a few moments later, his eyelids drooping and lips forming a frown. </p>
<p>It was quite for a few moments, save for the screaming on the television, until Rick patted his grandson's head slowly, his fingers lingering for a few moments. "You're growing up so fast-t, kid. Seems like you were just-just a l-little boy yesterday." </p>
<p>Morty, his spoon dangling from his mouth, jerked back in surprise. There were tears in Rick's eyes! "Rick!" He clamored to put the bowl and the spoon on the table. "A-are you ok?" Morty had never seen him cry before.</p>
<p>Avoiding Morty's grabbing hands, Rick stood up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, forcing the tears away as he made his way toward the garage, leaving his grandson alone on the couch. Kneeling so that he could watch Rick leave his line of sight over the back of the couch, Morty bit his lip, wanting to follow his grandpa in the garage, but thinking better of it. If Rick had left without him, he probably wanted to be alone for a while. </p>
<p>Pushing away his anxiousness, Morty plopped onto his bottom and changed the channel on the television, switching it to show from his own dimension. </p>
<p>Maybe he should work on his homework in a little bit, just to keep his mind off of Rick’s weird mood, but then again Rick was always in a weird mood no matter what. Maybe it was normal Rick stuff? If he didn’t drag him off to another adventure in a few hours, then Morty would know something was seriously wrong. </p>
<p>It was only a few minutes before he heard quick footsteps trampling down the stairs, making him sit up to glance at the noise. His grandpa, grinning from ear to ear and practically vibrating, greeted him as he threw himself onto the couch, making the boy bounce slightly with the sudden weight shift. “Hey, kiddo, whatcha’ -ugh- watching?” The older man asked, rather loudly, his hand ruffling Morty’s hair quickly, unlike how he had before. Now, he seemed more alert, more present, more...himself, Morty supposed. </p>
<p>“U-uh, I don’t k-know. I just kind of - kind of just turned it on.” Side eyeing his grandpa, Morty’s lips rolled together into a thin line. “H-hey, R-Rick, didn’t you just go to the garage? How did you get upstairs without me seeing?”</p>
<p>Rick sniffed, enraptured by the television, his legs twitching in front of him. “I-I dunno, Morty. M-maybe you just missed me.” Rick’s hands curled in his lap before the older man stood up, fidgety and unable to sit still. “I’ll be in the garage if you need me, ok, kiddo?”</p>
<p>“Uh, s-sure, Rick.”</p>
<p>"We'll - we'll go on an ad-adventure later, Morty. Maybe we can go to blitz and chips or- or get more mega seeds or-" Rick spoke so quickly that Morty almost couldn't understand him, his voice fading and stopping suddenly as he slammed the door to the garage behind him. </p>
<p>Taking his dishes to the sink, Morty shuffled his feet absentmindedly, puzzling over his grandpa's mood. Shaking his head clear, he glanced at the garage door before dashing up the stairs to change. </p>
<p>As he brushed his teeth, he heard the front door open. Rinsing out his mouth, Morty pulled on his yellow shirt as he stepped into the hallway, bumping into a large body, who grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him pull his shirt down, which had gotten stuck around his head. Popping his head through the hole, Morty found his grandpa staring down at him with a soft gaze, a small smile on his face. "Hey, M-Morty, Jerry and me are-are going to go to the h-hardware store. You -you need anything while I'm o-ugh-ut?" </p>
<p>Blinking owlishly, Morty sputtered, pointing his finger shakily. </p>
<p>Something was wrong. </p>
<p> "You-you-you're going to hang out with my dad? Willingly?" </p>
<p>"D-did I stutter, kid?" The older man asked playfully, quirking an eyebrow. </p>
<p>"Why?" </p>
<p>"He said he needed help." </p>
<p>Ok, something was <em> very </em>wrong if Rick wanted to help his dad. </p>
<p>"Oh-oh, um. Is-is mom home?" Morty grimaced, shuffling his feet, edging his way around the older man who seemed to be just as confused as he was, if a bit more relaxed. </p>
<p>"Yeah. She was downstairs." </p>
<p>Unable to think of a better exit strategy, Morty shouted an abrupt <em> bye </em>over his shoulder before running down the stairs. </p>
<p>"Mom, Mom!" He shouted, tripping over his feet as he let go of banister, narrowly missing falling face first onto the floor as a pair of strong hands grabbed him around the waist and pulled him away from the floor and back onto his feet. </p>
<p>His mom blinked at him worriedly, letting out a sigh as she placed her purse on the dining room table. Wait, if she was there, then who was...Morty almost screamed, stifling it by putting a hand over his mouth.</p>
<p>Staring back up toward the top of the stairs, Morty bit his tongue. </p>
<p>
  <em> Oh, geez, this is not good at all.  </em>
</p>
<p>Rick, eyes searching his grandson's face for any sign of injury, held him tightly. "Did you h-hurt yourself, Morty? Show Grandpa where it hurts." Kneeling down, Rick patted his grandson's sides, arms, and legs, feeling for any kind of injury. </p>
<p>Prying himself out of his grandpa's grip, Morty skidded over to his mother. "Mom," He glanced at Rick, who was still staring at him with a clinical eye. </p>
<p>"Can we t-talk <em>in private</em> <em>please</em>?"</p>
<p>"Of course." She began as she placed her hand on his back, guiding him to her bedroom. "Oh, honey,"  She spoke as if remembering something. "Your grandfather and I had a lovely time at lunch today." Morty had never seen her smile so wide. Once they made it to her bedroom, she continued. "He was so open and honest, even a bit vulnerable. I can see why you like spending so much time with him. Once you have him one on one, he's very sweet, almost like a completely different person." She giggled as she sat down on her bed, taking off her shoes. "Now, what did you want to talk about, sweetie?" </p>
<p>Feeling a bit sweaty, reluctant to ruin his mom's good mood, Morty dashed out of the room.</p>
<p>"It's nothing. Nevermind!" </p>
<p>With only one shoe on, she called after him. "Morty, if it's about your internet search history, I know-" </p>
<p>"La la la!" </p>
<p>Slapping his hands over his ears, the teenager barreled past his grandpa, who was sitting on the couch and attempting to get his attention, and charged back upstairs, ignoring his reddening face. </p>
<p>Bursting into his room, he grabbed his cellphone and scanned through his contacts until he found his sister's name. Anxiously tapping his foot, he waited as the phone rang, crossing his arms. </p>
<p>"Hello?" </p>
<p>"Summer! Um," Morty rolled onto his bed, picking at his wall with his fingernail. This was a long shot, if he was honest. Maybe Rick was just teleporting everywhere. Maybe he was just being moody. He took a breath."Is Rick there with you by any chance?" </p>
<p>Morty remembered her saying something about going shopping at the mall the night before. </p>
<p>His sister huffed and shifted the phone. "Yeah, but he's being a dick. I don't know if you want to talk to him right now. He's cursing out some guy for buying a hot dog without any condiments." </p>
<p>Twisting his free hand in his shirt, Morty could hear his grandpa shouting through the phone. "C-could you put him on p-please?" </p>
<p>He could hear the shrug in her voice. "Ok, but it's your funeral. <em> Grandpa Rick! </em>" She shouted, making Morty pull the phone away from his ear. </p>
<p>"Hey, kiddo, Grandpa's kinda busy right now. I'll see you when I get home." </p>
<p>"B-But-"</p>
<p>Rick's tone grew colder. "<em> I said </em> I'll talk to you when I get home." </p>
<p>The call disconnected. </p>
<p>Staring at his phone, Morty's sense of despair grew. It skyrocketed when he saw Rick, frowning, hands in his pockets and hunched over, standing in his doorway, studying him with a curious gaze and a hand in his pocket. This time, he did scream, juggling the phone to keep from dropping it. </p>
<p>"M-Morty, why did you scream?" </p>
<p>Shifting in his bed, the boy's mind went blank, unable to process how Rick got there so fast. Even with portal technology, he couldn't have appeared <em> that </em>fast. </p>
<p>Jumping out of bed, Morty pushed on his grandpa's chest, shoving him out of the room, so he could close the door. "N-No reason! I'll see you for dinner!" He answered, continuously trying to push Rick out of the doorway to no avail. </p>
<p>"You haven't eaten lunch yet." </p>
<p>"I'm not hungry." He grunted, finally getting his grandpa to give a little. </p>
<p>"L-Let's go get something to eat, y-yeah?" </p>
<p>Morty paused his efforts, looking up at his grandpa. "You...but you just ate with Mom." </p>
<p>Rick sighed, shrugging. "Well, I'm hungry again." Morty stared in horror as tears welled in the older man's eyes. "Don't you want to eat with me?" He asked softly, looking miserable.</p>
<p>"Wha-I mean, sure!" Morty grimaced, trying to remedy the situation. "Where do you want to go?" </p>
<p>Rick, a small smile painting his face, took the boy's hand, and, taking out his portal gun, shot a green portal at the floor. Without warning, he jumped into the portal, pulling Morty with him. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Morty told himself to wait until everyone went to bed. Thinking over everything, the day honestly hadn't been as bad as he initially thought. It seemed to have only been difficult for himself. </p>
<p>Dad had a good day with Rick at the hardware store, Mom and Rick had a meaningful conversation at lunch, and Summer didn't see any difference in Rick's mood. </p>
<p>So really, it was just Morty who was freaking out.</p>
<p>Despite being in his PJs, Morty crept into the hallway, hearing the rest of his family downstairs. Luckily, Rick had helped him with a cover story, unknowingly. During dinner, Rick had been throwing side glances at him, his eyes holding flashes of worry and concern. </p>
<p>Because of this, it was pretty easy to fake being sick. His family knew that if <em> Rick </em>was worried, then Morty had to be sick. </p>
<p>Avoiding the creaky floorboard, slipping into his grandpa's room, Morty bit his lip, unsure of himself. Quickly, glancing around the room, kneeling down, he found a box under his grandpa's bed. Dragging it out, he rummaged through it, carefully pushing things aside until he found a small black gun-shaped object. Taking it and putting the box back in its place, Morty jumped to his feet and trotted over to the shelf by the door. </p>
<p>Squinting up at the higher shelves, he groaned, seeing a green cylinder with a light bulb's connector on the end. Of course, it was where he couldn't reach it. Dragging Rick's work chair over to the chair, Morty climbed onto it and snatched up the cylinder. Screwinf it into the hole on the top part of the gun, Morty aimed at the floor and pulled the trigger. </p>
<p>A green portal, though a bit smaller and more wobbly than Rick's official portals, widened. Taking a breath and pocketing the gun, Morty jumped into the green ring. </p>
<p>
  <span>With the portal closing, Morty ran toward the large house on the horizon. Panting, he banged on the door, huffing with each movement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door swung open. "Morty," Came the monotone voice of Birdperson. "What a pleasant surprise." The older man's eyes darted around above Morty's head, searching in the dimming light. "Are you alone?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy nodded, his heartbeat still pounding in his ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Come in, youngling." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once having herded Morty to Birdperson's dining table, he poured a small glass of purple juice for the boy, placing the cold cup in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Does your grandpa know you are here?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Birdperson stared at him with those unwavering eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I see. What is wrong, Morty?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy toyed with the glass in his hands, tracing patterns on it. "Rick's been a-acting weird. Has he said anything to you or - or Squanchy?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Birdperson blinked slowly, thinking back on their recent conversations. "No, I don't believe he has, but we only spoke in passing." They were both silent. Thinking about what to say next. Softly but nonetheless firm, Birdperson continued. "Perhaps you should ask him what is wrong. He is a very private person, but I believe that if you asked him he would tell you. I have never seen him deny you anything unless he had a valid reason." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pondering this, Morty nodded, a yawn breezing passed his lips. "You're right." His eyelids suddenly heavy, Morty rested his chin on his folded arms. "H-Hey, Birdperson, do you think you could shoot the portal for me? I'm...kinda tired." The boy yawned again, his head falling to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think it would be better if you were to stay here for the night. I will tell Rick." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh...ok." Morty was asleep before he even knew it. Birdperson embraced a rare grin as he picked up the boy, cradling him in his arms and wrapping his wings around him as he carried him to a spare nest room. That purple juice Rick made always worked like a charm on Morty. The scientist always made sure that Birdperson had some on hand in case he and his grandson happened to drop by, knowing that the boy frequently had a difficult time sleeping. Rick had, in some form or fashion, created a drink that would allow the consumer to fall into a deep, restful sleep, even if the subject was experiencing high levels of panic, anxiety, or excitement. Birdperson, at first, had been a bit weary of the product, but soon changed his tune when the Rick showed up at his door for a visit with Morty, who had consumed about three boxes of Strawberry Smiggles while Rick wasn't looking. The boy had zoomed around the house and inspected things as if he had never seen inside anyone's home before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I have my own supply at home. Just keep some on hand. Just in case." Rick had told him, a grimace etched into his face as he carried a snoring Morty on his hip. Birdperson was glad he listened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Typing, he sent a message to Rick, telling him Morty was with him and that he was fine, tucked safely away in a nest. The answering message let the bird man know that Rick would pick up his grandson as soon as he could, in a few hours at most. Either way, Birdperson didn't mind. He liked having a youngling in the nest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't until the sun was well in the sky that Rick came by, happier than Birdperson had ever seen him. Grabbing Morty, who still had been dozing, by the arm and dragging him out of bed, Rick and his grandson disappeared through the green portal on the floor with a cheerful </span>
  <em>
    <span>thanks! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thrown over his shoulder at Birdperson, leaving the other man to ponder the enigma that was Rick Sanchez. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they were home, teleported into Morty's room, without warning, Rick laughed, actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not because someone failed, not because Morty did something embarrassing. No, he laughed because...because, well, Morty didn't quite know yet but it was weird. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A large hand threaded through his hair, messing it up it was satisfied. "You little troublemaker. You take after me, don't you? Probably not the best thing, but we can work on that." Rick's genuine smile and praise warmed Morty's heart. Despite that, his hands curled around each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh -uh, Rick, are - are you-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rick cut him off, walking out of the room. "I'm fine, kiddo." His smile was offset and tight. "Get changed. I - I want to do a load of laundry." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
  <em>
    <span>What…?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But you hate - can't you just invent -" Morty stopped himself. Rick had already left the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alright, that was the last straw. Rick </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing menial chores. That man had to be an imposter, and Morty would protect his family no matter what. He just had to bide his time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But first, he'd change. If that was still Rick, he didn't want to upset him too much. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It took half of the day, but Morty was finally ready. A few stray alien weapons, which he had taken from a few adventures, just in case, were in his pockets and the small, black portal gun was tucked into the back waistband of his pants. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun had long set over the horizon. Stomping down the stairs, looking much like a cowboy heading toward a quick draw, Morty didn't even spare a glance at his family who was watching television </span>
  <em>
    <span>without him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It didn't matter right now. He had more important things to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stopping in front of the garage door, he took a breath. Flinging it open, he stepped insight but stopped at the sight that met him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...oh." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before him, working on various projects, was Rick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But instead of just one, there were five.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, that explained a lot. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They all stared at him, each expression slightly different from the last, ranging from annoyance to outright worry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Um, which one of you is my Rick?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I am." They chorused together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morty's face was wrapped in confusion. He closed the door behind himself, his fingers itching to reach for the portal gun in his waistband. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, which one of you is C-137?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I am." They repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morty, growing frustrated, asked the question that had been bothering him all day. "What is going on?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the Ricks, the one closest to him, abandoned his project, speeded over to him, and snatched him up. With Morty squirming on his hip, the other Ricks turned back to their projects as their grandson was taken out of the garage and into the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"W-wha-Rick!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sh-Sh, it's ok, Morty." Rick struggled to keep a grip on his grandson. "Let me explain."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually wiggling his way off Rick's hip and out of his grip, Morty did the only thing that made sense to him: He screamed, running as fast as he could through the house and up the stairs to his room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morty? What's-" He heard his Mom ask as he streamed passed. Rick stopped to threw some vague answer at her, inadvertently giving him more time to escape. He slammed the door shut and jammed a chair underneath the knob, hoping that all of the Rick's temporarily forgot that they had portal technology at their fingertips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking out his portal gun, he tried to shoot at the ground. Unable to think about the consequences and only wanting to escape, Morty made to jumped through the portal but was distracted as a pounding slammed into his door. If he were paying attention, he would have noticed that the portal was bright orange instead of its regular soft green. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morty!" Came Rick's impassioned voice through the door, accompanied by loud banging and aggressive twisting on the knob. "Listen, kid! I'll explain everything if you just let me in." The chair trembled under Rick's movements. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, no way. Morty would not let him in. Oh, geez, where were those emergency protocol instructions? Scrambling to look under his bed, Morty knelt, his knee knocking into the metal bed frame. Biting his tongue, he stifled his pained cry as he bent over to reach under his bed. With his body halfway stuffed under the mattress, he could barely see the shoebox that was shoved against the wall haphazardly. Reaching out, his fingers barely grazing the top of the container, Morty felt a pair of hands close around his ankles, making him kick his legs as he was pulled out from under the mattress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"M-Morty, stop - stop!" Being flipped onto his back, Morty kicked out in defense, his shoe connecting with Rick's side. The older man coughed, keeping a firm grip on his grandson's ankle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ughh, shit, Morty. You're stronger than you look, kid." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, geez, Rick, I - I'm -" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rick cut him off by reaching around him and seized the small portal gun that was being crushed under Morty's weight. "You little turd," He growled, stuffing the broken device into his lab coat pocket. "What were you trying to do, huh?" He jabbed his finger in the direction of the orange portal that was still whirling behind him. "Were you trying to kill yourself, you little shit?" He hissed, angrily, shaking Morty slightly as he shot a green portal over the orange one, overpowering it easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Morty could answer, Rick interrupted, dragging him by the arm, onto his feet, and through the portal. "And what's in your pockets? Are those...oh, God, Morty, do I have to search you ever time we come back from space?" Rick's grip tightened around his wrist as they reappeared in the garage in front of three of the Ricks. Morty assumed the fifth Rick was still upstairs trying to get into his room. He entered the room soon after Morty had that thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each Rick looked at the boy with critical eyes, waiting for him to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morty blinked up at them, feeling the Rick that had dragged him through the portal release his arm. "So, uh, what's going on?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Morty</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Scoffed the same Rick. "Are you going to listen or run like a little -" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't be mean to him!" Another Rick, the one who had just come in, interjected, crouching down and wrapping his arms around Morty's neck, almost choking him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll listen," The boy shouted, untangling himself from his grandpa's arms. "I'll listen!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the Ricks who was standing in front of him, frowning, began. "I was trying to create some new batches of clone base and, uh," He cleared his throat and continued softly."Something went..." He coughed. "Wrong…."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morty's brows scrunched together as he processed that sentence. "Wait, you made a mistake?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"T-That's not the point, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Morty!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" One of them sneered behind the boy. "You've gotta fix this!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Me? I'm not the one who-" Morty paused, squinting at them, as his eyes swept the room, studying each of their faces. Blinking, with an open mouth, he tilted his head, dumbfounded. "Are each of you...an emotion?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't be stupid, Morty!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're so smart, Morty!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wow, that's a good guess, Morty!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't stand so close to those wires, Morty. You might trip." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why does he have to grow up so fast?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rubbing the back of his neck, Morty decided that he was correct. "So how do we f-fix this?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of the Ricks looked at each other before one responded. "We have to go get some stabilization fluid. I left it on another planet." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can't you just make more </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another answered. "B-ugh, it would be faster just to go get it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morty sighed, turning toward one of the workbenches and emptying his pockets of alien weaponry, much to the surprise of the other Rick's, before marching over to the car. "What are the coordinates? I'll be right-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He squeaked as one of the Ricks lifted him into his arms and put him on his hip. "You are not going alone, and why did you have those?" He asked, referencing the weapons that had just been in his pockets. "You could be killed without me there to protect you." This Rick was quick to worry, to being fearful, and to...vulnerableily. Alright, so this had to be the one that was with Mom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't squeeze him too hard. He needs to breathe. Morty, are you alright, kid?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Compassion</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This one had to be with Dad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The little shit's fine. Put him down. He needs to tell me why he thinks it's ok to </span>
  <em>
    <span>steal my stuff</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Anger</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was with Summer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That only left…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are we going on an adventure?" One of the Ricks asked, practically bouncing up and down on his feet while grinning from ear to ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Happiness</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do we have to?" Came a soft voice, coated in sorrow. "I'd rather stay home with the kid." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sadness</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morty, accepting his fate of being pressed to his grandfather's chest in a death grip, sighed, hid voice muffled. "Is this all of you?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes." They responded snippily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good, let's - let's all go together. It - it won't take that long, r-right?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's got a point." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whatever. Let's get this over with." </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>If you told Morty a year ago that he'd be jammed in a flying saucer of a car with five versions of his grandfather...well, he wouldn't actually be that surprised, more worried about how you would know such a thing. Were you from the Bearou of Time Travel? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite Morty's insistence that he should drive, all of the Ricks voted against it, instead opting to argue amongst themselves about who </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>drive until Happy decided that he should take the wheel, who Morty agreed with of the decision let them get that much closer to restoring his grandpa to normal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Here he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting in worried Rick's lap in the back of the car, between Anger, on his right, and Compassion, on his left, while Happy and Sadness sat in the front. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Quit squirming, kid. You're making me nervous." Anger huffed, looking out the window at the stars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you need to use the bathroom, Morty?" Compassion asked as Worry studied him with searching eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No," The boy cried, embarrassed. "I'm fine! H-How long until we get there?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"About twenty more minutes." Sadness rubbed his nose, those ever-present tears in his eyes threatening to pour over. "I'm sorry. I-I just-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anger rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Don't cry, you big baby. The only baby that should be here is -ugh- Morty."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey! I'm not a baby!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, that's what babies say." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm f-fourteen, R-Rick!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Compassion patted his head, comforting him and distracting him from Sadness' onslaught of tears. "It's alright, kiddo. Ignore him. He's just t-teasing you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was silence before Fear spoke, his grip on Morty tight and troublesome. "Car," He commanded. "Keep Morty safe." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What? Why?" Morty asked, throwing his arms in the air. "I didn't do anything!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Confirmed. Keep Morty safe." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"For the love of - we're all here." Anger snapped, offended at the implication that all of them, let alone he himself, could not protect Morty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You never know." Fear hummed, readjusting Morty on his lap. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Morty didn't know when, but he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew was that they had arrived on a lush, calming planet. The Ricks clamored out of the car, shoving each over aside. Morty tried to get their attention, but to no avail, as he found himself being transferred from Fear's lap into Compassion's arms, still being carried like a doll. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"R-Rick, put me down! I'm not a-a little kid!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course not, Morty." Compassion grinned down at him, patting his back placatingly as Happiness passed them, ruffling the boy's hair. "You're a smart boy, but just let me carry you for a while. You don't know what's here." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The praise making his face heat up, Morty, unaware of what he was doing until it was done, buried his face in Rick's chest, his hands twisting in his lab coat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Aw," He heard some of them murmured. "So cute." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alright.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Morty thought sarcastically, all thoughts of proving himself to be a young man vanishing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We're learning some new things.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feeling something soft brush his ankles, Morty jerked his head up to peer over Compassion's shoulder. They were walking through some kind of field that looked like wheat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Will you put me down when we get there?" He asked softly, hoping the other Ricks couldn't hear him. Before Compassion could answer, Anger interjected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He'll put you down whenever he damn well pleases."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anger's sour face and crossed arms told him that he shouldn't mess with him, but Morty, feeling adventurous, and maybe a little bit self destructive, slowly reached out for the other Rick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Anger looked nervous before stuffing that feeling down and begrudgingly taking the boy into his arms, just a bit too roughly, jostling him with each step. "You little shit, you're such a manipulator." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laying his head on the older man's shoulder and looping his arm around his neck, Morty giggled, seeing a faint blush of embarrassment on his grandpa's cheeks. "You're the one who let yourself be manipulated." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a chorus of jeers directed at Anger, which he batted away with a fierce </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck off!</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they came to the end of the field, Sadness knelt down at the forest’s edge and pulled back a sheet of grass, revealing a keypad, which he punched several numbers into before a panel of grass slid open a few feet away. "I'll go down there with Rick," Sadness spoke slowly. "While the rest of you stay with Morty." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Who put you in charge?" Anger snapped, setting Morty on his feet and striding forward to jab Sadness in his chest with his finger. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I'll</span>
  </em>
  <span> go down there with Rick, and the rest of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>stay up here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Um," Morty spoke up, confusion fading into his expression, rubbing the toe of his right shoe against his left ankle. "Who are you guys talking about? I mean, which Rick?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Him</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Each Rick pointed at another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"U-uh, oh-ok. Well-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morty, shu - ugh- t up for a second." Anger interpreted, ignoring Morty's attempt at being helpful. Grabbing Sadness by the labels, he marched toward the open hatch. "You're coming with me." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"O...kay." Sadness murmured tearfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait!" Happiness hissed, stopping the pair. "Who said </span>
  <em>
    <span>you two</span>
  </em>
  <span> could go down there?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Morty wandered toward the hatch and peered down into it, ignoring the arguments unfolding just a few feet away. Looking between the Ricks and the hatch, Morty made to crawl into the opening but stopped upon seeing the horizon. A large spacecraft floated in the distance between two large, sharp mountains near a river. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait, was that...a toilet? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Rick! Is this where you shit?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of them swiveled their heads toward him, surprised that he had moved from his previous stop. "Morty," Fear hissed, dashing over to him and picking him up under the armpits, placing him as far as he could from the entrance into the underground lab before going back to the others. "Language!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You say worse things every day." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ignored him in favor of returning back to their arguments.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand on his hip, Morty huffed, gesturing toward the hatch. "There's enough room for all of you down there." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's not the problem, Morty." Happiness answered him, grinning dopily at him. "You can't come down there with us." He paused as if choosing his words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There's some stuff that you're not quite ready to see yet." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What, like you're shit?" The boy glared, crossing his arms, thoroughly unhappy that Rick was, evidently, keeping something from him and wanting to go home. "All of you go down there and get the s-stabilization serum or - or whatever. I'll stay up here." Plopping down on the grass on his bottom, Morty glared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each Rick passed him, throwing him a side glance. Compassion was the last into the hatch. With a grin, he brushed back the boy's hair, his warm hands lingering on Morty's hairline for a moment before pulling away. "Be good, Morty. Grandpa will be right back." With that said, he disappeared into the lab. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy fell onto his back, staring passed the treetops and into the sky. Sighing, he turned his head toward the horizon once again. A shining glint catching his eye, he sat up and rolled on his feet. With a momentary glance behind him at the hatch, he moved toward the edge of the cliff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surveying the area as he passed the toilet, he squinted at the flashing light, finding that it was probably a large rock with a shiney surface or a pool of water-like liquid reflecting the daylight. Before he knew what was happening, he heard the crumbling of dirt. Looking for the source of the sound, he felt a shift underneath him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, geez. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cliff crumbling under his feet, Morty stumbled backward, trying to find stable ground. Reaching out, his palms caught on the dirt, wetness coating his fingers, as he was pulled down toward the ground. With a scream, he curled in on himself, protecting his stomach and neck as he tumbled down the cliffside to the bottom, where he landed with a thump on the hard grass-covered ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ow…." Morty moaned, tearfully, his hands shaking and body hurting all over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morty!" Came several cries followed by the sound of five pairs of feet sliding through loose dirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"M-Morty," Fear grabbed him by the shoulders as he knelt down, his eyes searching the boy's pained face, looking for more injuries than the ones he had already seen. "Show Grandpa where it hurts." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through his tears, the boy sniffled, holding out his bloodied hands, unaware of how small, how young, he looked. "M-My h-aaa-nds and - and-" He hiccuped, as Compassion reached into his lab coat and pulled out a small roll of white gauze. Handing it to Fear, he jogged back up the hill that was made by the falling cliff, toward the car to find a first aid kit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, instead of looking forlorn about his own situation, Sadness was focusing his worry onto the teary-eyed boy in front of him, while Happiness studied Morty's stayed with clinical eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Livid, the veins on his neck prominent, Anger stomped forward, gritting his teeth. "You little turd," He growled, holding Morty by his wrists so that he had no choice but to open his hands, showing them the dark oozing scratches. "Stop moving! You'll hurt yourself even more." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Compassion appeared behind him, a tackle box-like case in his hand. Opening it, he dug through it until he found a clear glass bottle and handed it to Sadness, who unscrewed it hastily, dipped his fingers into it, and gently smeared the salve across Morty's palms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy watched as the scraps disappeared, fading back into healthy skin. With wobbly lips, waiting as Sadness wrapped his hands in gauze for good measure, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, bringing his head forward as the older man kept a firm hold on him. "D-Did you get it?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, gimme a minute, Morty." One of them said. Morty couldn't tell who. By the time he looked back up at them, each had the needle of a vaccine-like gun in their necks, pushing the orange formula into their veins. Blinking, the boy found that there was only one Rick kneeling in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's get you home, kiddo." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Morty could even attempt to stand, Rick's arms circled under the boy's knees and back, lifting him gently, but firmly into his arms. "Don't think that you getting banged up lets you off the hook for going through my stuff." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaning his head on the older man's shoulder, eyes still misty, Morty gripped the lapel Rick's lab coat, sniffling. "So I'm not in trouble for hiding weapons in my room?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rick was silent as he continued on his way up the hill, making a note to reinforce it, and through the field. He sighed, tightened his grip on his grandson. "Tell you what, you give me all of the weapons that you have and I'll make some new ones just for you. I have to remake that portal gun anyway. How did you find that anyway?" He asked, genuinely curious as to how his grandson knew about it, and slightly disappointed. It was supposed to be for the boy's fifteenth birthday in a few months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morty shrugged as best he could. "You told me about it when you were drunk. You're not as secretive as you think, Rick." Nearing the ship and passing the lone toilet, Morty took a shaky breath. "I-I t-think I can walk n-now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright, Morty. Grandpa's stronger than he looks." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blinking, Morty stared up at Rick through damp eyelashes as he was gently placed in the passenger side seat, the spray of ocean-like water tickling his ankles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. He...wants to take care of me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The boy smiled to himself as his grandfather circled the car and slid into the driver's seat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't get used to it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Morty</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Rick grumbled as he started the car and pointed toward space. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I won't." Morty affirmed definitely, smiling broadly, almost making his grandfather want to take it back. That sweet naivety, that trusting nature, would surely drive Rick Sanchez into an early grave if one of his enemies didn't get to him first. Hesitating momentarily, he placed his hand on Morty's head, ruffling his hair before extracting his hand, acting as if nothing had happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring his grandson's puppy-like eyes, Rick stared forward, gripping the steering wheel and praying that the boy wouldn't comment on anything, let alone on that action. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Rick, do you really come out all the way out here to poop?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veering off course slightly before readjusting, Rick stuck his chin out. "I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>choose</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. There's a difference." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You didn't really answer my-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Morty</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Do you want ice cream? We never did get any yesterday." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know you're just trying to change the subject." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, do you want ice cream or-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I want ice cream!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Great." Rick smiled as he changed course, heading toward their favorite ice cream shop in this dimension, attempting to ignore the warmth growing his chest at hearing his grandson's cheers. Maybe making mistakes wasn't so bad after all.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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